It's not any different in our home, despite the fact that I've worked from home for the last 4 years. I'm a work-at-home ninja now shut in with rookies - and it's not pretty. For context, my beautiful wife, E, is a special ed teacher who works at a behavioral school. CAPD Boy is home from college, finishing his senior year Zooming in his room. My mother and sister live downstairs and then the remaining kids live in our other house - ADHD Girl with her fiance, Ninja Chef, and BP Boy with his dog, Shado. Lastly, NLD Girl is living with her boyfriend. Here's but a sampling of the "fun" we're experiencing.
E: BP Boy's on the phone
Me: Hey, what's up?
BP Boy: Is the gym open yet?
Me: No, it won't be open until they're sure that you can't catch the virus.
BP Boy: ok, but the virus is invisible and we can’t see it, right?
Me: True
BP Boy: so if we can’t see it, do we really know for a fact that it can see us?
Me: Well, viruses don’t have eyes, #1, and c, viruses don’t travel, people do.
BP Boy: So, you’re saying that the gym could be open
Me: No, I’m not saying that.
BP Boy: But you just said that the virus doesn’t travel, so couldn’t people just leave it at home?
Me: No, that’s not how this works.
BP Boy: Well, what if I wear camo workout clothes?
Me: Again, the virus can’t see you.
BP Boy: Good, then we agree, the point makes itself.
Me: ...
Let it not be said that I’ve done anything close to an adequate job of educating my kids about pandemics...
10 minutes later...
Text exchange with Mom -
Mom: Is the Instacart order coming today?
Me: Yes
Mom: How much do I owe?
Me: We won’t know until they’re done shopping - some things may not be in stock.
Mom: How do they know what we want?
Me: We placed an order, remember?
Mom: So, are you going to pick it up?
Me: No, they will be delivering it.
Sister: But how do they know what we want?
Me: Please see above.
Mom: Did you order the paper plates?
Me: Yes.
Mom: In all 17 sizes?
Me: Yes, but I have to ask, what are they for?
Mom: For the barbecue.
Me: Ummmm, we’re in isolation, there’s not going to be a barbecue.
Mom: You don’t know that. We’ll have one eventually.
Me: True, but by that time, we will be able to go to the store and buy paper plates.
Mom: It doesn’t hurt to be prepared.
Me: I guess not.
Mom: Well, with that attitude the Instacart guy will never get the right plates.
Me: You think the shopper can tell my attitude about paper plates and will deprioritize them accordingly?
Mom: Yes. I do...
Here’s the thing, as I said, I’ve worked from home, or while traveling, for the last 4 or so years. Of course, right now, I’m doing less actual work (#furloughed) and more home...with everyone...and they’re not used to any of it. CAPD Boy is having senioritis from his bedroom and my lovely wife is zooming on her IPad all day. I love them all to death but there are just so many questions! “What’s for dinner?” “Are you on the phone?” “When were the dogs out last?” Why are you crying and banging your head against the wall?” “Are you still watching (Tiger King)?” Yes, Netflix - stop judging me! You know, typical work at home questions...
Of course, when you reframe this all positively, it becomes clear - we will miss this level of connection when it’s gone. That’s what we do as humans. We will misremember it and think about how cool it was to be
- 15 cups of coffee daily is not incompatible with human life
- You can run out of things to watch on Netflix.
- Toilet paper can be currency.
- sweatpants are business casual.
- It turns out you can fit exercise into your day (damnit!)
If that’s not enough of an incentive to stick it out and do your part to save the world, consider this your formal invitation to the cookout (not you, Karen - no one wants tilapia at a barbecue).
